I Love You, You Silly Bee Charmer
by MirellaArabesque
Summary: Idgie and Ruth's lives, beginning the day Ruth comes back home. This story contains big-time femmeslash! Rated M.
1. Towanda!

A/N: This is submitted to Books, but it's going to take some elements of the book and some of the film, and some of my mind. For example, Ruth won't know she's pregnant before she goes back to live with Idgie. Most of the dialogue in these first few chapters is taken directly from the book or film, but that ends after chapter 3. Happy reading, and please review!

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"_And Ruth said, 'Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people.'"_

_-Ruth 1:16_

_Idgie_

I was going to save Ruth. I was going to take her from Frank Bennett's house and bring her home. Julian, Big George and I sat in the car quietly the whole way there, and I was shaking and I didn't know why. It wasn't because I was scared of Frank, though I probably should have been. My brother Julian, in the front seat with me, noticed me trembling, and offered me a cigarette, which I gladly accepted.

Finally the house came into view. I had been to Ruth's home only twice- once watching from afar as Frank carried her over the threshold, the second time to bring her a pie. That was when I had first seen her black eye, when I had first known that Frank had beaten her. That once was enough for me to want to rip all of his fingernails off one by one and then proceed to the rest of his body, but I would have bet every cent I ever won in poker that it wasn't the only time he had hit her.

_Ruth,_ I reminded myself. _You're here to save _Ruth._ Not to kill Frank Bennett._

Before the engine went off or the car had even fully stopped moving, I had leapt over the door and was on my way into the house. I didn't knock; Frank would hate me enough for helping his wife leave him that manners didn't matter. Once inside, I went straight upstairs, hoping to find Ruth up there, since the first floor looked deserted.

There she was, sitting in a chair in the hallway, looking out the window. As beautiful as ever. Her face was turned away from me, but when she spoke, I could tell she was crying.

"Mother died," she told me without turning around.

I walked towards her and stood behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders and looking out the window with her. "I know." She leaned into me, head resting on my stomach. For a few minutes we stayed like that, until Ruth stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, "I'm coming home with you."

There was a lump in my own throat as I replied, "Let's get your stuff then."

Big George and Julian had just taken a trunk out to the car. Ruth and I were puzzling over the dilemma of how to get all of her hats into the car. We had decided to put three in one box, and Ruth was carrying a bag outside. I was right behind her with three hatboxes when we heard a door slam and heavy, quick footsteps coming toward us.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked Frank Bennett angrily. Ruth stopped abruptly in the doorway of the living room, but I kept walking.

"Looks like your wife's leaving you, mister," I said, trying to balance the boxes on my hip.

Frank grabbed Ruth and pulled her away from the door. "Oh, sure she is." I felt blood pound in my ears as he took both of her wrists in his left hand.

"Don't you touch her! Let go!" I yelled, but Frank had already slapped her across the face with his right hand. She was flung into the side of the staircase with the force of his blow. Without thinking, I threw the boxes I was carrying and jumped on his back, banging my fists on his head and chest. He spun around again and again before finally running backwards into the window by the front door. My head slammed into it, and I slid to the floor, gasping at the pain and watching the room whirl.

I was vaguely aware of Ruth yelling, "Don't you hurt her!" but mostly I was focusing on getting my chest to let in air. The door opened beside me, and Julian and Big George walked in, staring up. I blinked and saw Frank carrying Ruth up the stairs over his back. Leaning on the doorway, I slowly stood up as Julian said loudly and clearly, "I wouldn't do that if I was you, mister."

Frank turned to look at him, and Julian continued. "See, the thing is, you might upset Big George, and he's… crazy. There's no telling what he might do."

To someone who didn't know him, Big George would be intimidating enough just as he was. When he pulled out a knife and flicked it with his thumb, I saw the calculation behind Frank's eyes.

In the moment of silence that followed, Ruth's eyes met mine. I was still leaning against the wall, breathing hard and trying not to show how dizzy I felt. For a moment Ruth looked sad, and then she closed her eyes as if she was ashamed. Then Frank slowly set her down. George flicked his switchblade closed, and Ruth's husband said, "Go on, get outta here," very quietly. Pressed up against the wall, looking at the floor, Ruth started down the steps. I sighed with relief, and Ruth looked like she was about to cry. Then Frank's boot came up behind her and gave her a solid kick, sending her flying to the ground, landing face-down with a thud. She cried out and I felt my heart skip a beat. Julian lunged at Frank, but George managed to keep hold of him.

Frank just watched the two other men struggle with cold eyes as I knelt next to Ruth, pulling her up. "Let's go, come on!" I said to Julian, tugging on his pants leg. "You okay?" I asked Ruth. Big George, now that my brother was under control, helped Ruth and me off of the floor.

George led Ruth out the door, and Julian followed right behind him. I turned back to look at Frank. "If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you," I panted furiously before walking outside. On the steps, I staggered slightly- my balance was still a little off. But I made it into the car, and once I had sat down, I felt much better.

"Well, I sure as hell scared him, didn't I?" I asked Ruth, grinning at the woman beside me.

She was in the process of pulling off her wedding ring. As I drove away, she threw it over the car door into the grass and said, "Yeah, you sure scared him." She still sounded pretty shaken up. But I was triumphant and feeling exhilarated at our escape, so I yelled, "Towanda! The amazing Amazon woman!"

"Towanda?" Ruth inquired as we drove away.


	2. Wild Game, Wild Girl

A/N: Okay, short one. I guess I'm going to explain really quickly why I'm submitting all these chapters on the same day. Well, I wrote chapters 1, 5, and part of 6 or 7 (haven't decided yet) first, and just finished filling in the middle. Again, dialogue in this chapter is taken from the book.

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_Ruth_

I sighed with relief as we turned that last corner. The Threadgoode house was finally coming into view. After a very stressful morning and a very long drive, I was finally home.

Of course, the relief disappeared as I got out of the car and everyone was hugging and kissing me and talking all at once. I was honestly a bit of a nervous wreck, but I smiled and hugged and kissed back to the best of my ability. Momma babbled about Sipsey and Ninny cooking all morning and my room being set up, and Poppa assured me that they wouldn't let me run off again, they were so happy I was back. I could smell the cooking and it did smell good, and I didn't plan on running away again. It wasn't as if I was hearing anything too dreadfully complicated, but somehow it all seemed difficult to understand.

On the porch steps, Momma turned around. "You better behave yourself this time, young lady!" she scolded Idgie, who was walking behind us. "Do you hear me?"

Momma turned around, but I kept looking back long enough to see Idgie, confused, whisper to herself, "What'd I do?"

Throughout supper, I sat quietly. Idgie kept trying to catch my eye, but I found myself unable to look at her. Yes, she had saved me, but did she still feel the way she had that summer? And would she still have me? I would never forget the way she looked when I told her I was leaving—like a wounded animal, throwing things and crying and screaming. Could she forgive me?

Only after everyone was finished did Momma and Poppa Threadgoode ask me into the parlor. I closed the door behind me and sat down. Folding my hands in my lap, heart pounding, I began.

"I don't have any money, I really don't have anything but my clothes. But I can work. I want you both to know that I'll never leave again. I should never have left her four years ago, I know that now. But I'm going to try and make it up to her and never hurt her again. You have my word on that."

Poppa Threadgoode looked uncomfortable, but replied. "Well, I hope you're aware of what you're in for. Idgie's a handful, you know."

Interrupting him, Momma laughed, "Oh, Poppa, Ruth knows that. Don't you, dear?" She didn't let me answer, just kept on talking. "It's just that she has a wild streak… Sipsey says it's because I ate wild game while I was carrying Idgie. Remember, Poppa, you and the boys brought home some quail and wild turkeys that year?"

"Mother, you have eaten wild game every year of your life," Poppa sighed.

"Well, that's true, too. Anyhow, that's beside the point." She turned back to me, and I tried to look serious again, wiping the grin off my face. The argument was one I had heard before, and the familiar words helped to calm me before I remembered the seriousness of the situation. "Poppa and I just want you to know that we think of you as one of the family now, and we couldn't be happier for our little girl to have such a sweet companion as you."

I sighed in relief. They would let me stay, they would let me be with Idgie! If Idgie would let me be with Idgie… Thanking both of them quietly, I kissed them and left the room, off hunting for my Bee Charmer.

I found her outside, but she seemed upset. She didn't talk to me, and I didn't say anything because I didn't want to set her off. I waited and waited, but finally I just sighed, stood up, wiped the dirt off my dress, and walked inside.


	3. Facing It

A/N: This is the last chapter that will steal dialogue from Fannie Flagg! Yaaaayyy! Ahem. So. All words spoken aloud from "LEAVE ME ALONE, GODDAMMIT" to "Stop it! Do you hear me!" belong to Fannie Flagg.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fried Green Tomatoes, Idgie, Ruth, Momma Threadgoode, or Poppa Threadgoode. *sniff* I own nothing.

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I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this happy. Ruth was here, she was back, and—I thought—she was staying. Actually, come to think of it, I didn't know if she was staying… but she wouldn't leave me again. I knew she wouldn't. Ruth _loved_ me.

She said she didn't, when I was sixteen and she was twenty-one and everything had been going right. She ruined it, by telling me that she was leaving to go get married. She had already told me she loved me that summer, and—though I felt horrible admitting it—it was a delicious feeling knowing that she knew it was wrong to love me but she loved me anyways, that for once it didn't matter to her what she was supposed to do. _I_ mattered more than what her mother said about getting married, more than what her father preached or our Heavenly Father said about two women being together. At least, up until she said she was leaving.

_We were sitting out on the porch swing, and I could tell that she wanted to tell me something, but she didn't say what until I asked her. I remember perfectly the way she turned around and took my hands in hers and, with tears in her eyes, said, "I'm leaving tomorrow."_

_It came as a shock. She had tamed me; up until that summer I'd been alone, running around wild, still grieving for Buddy. When she came, I had started healing, and now she was leaving. All I could think to say was, "What?"_

"_Idgie, I'm going home to Georgia tomorrow."_

_Relief. Only to Georgia. That wasn't too far. "I can come with you, right?"_

"_Ah…no. You can't," she sighed._

"_Why not?" My heart started pounding. She didn't want me with her? She was leaving?_

"_I'm getting married in November."_

"_Who?" I choked out._

"_Frank Bennett, he's a friend of my Momma's. I'm marrying him, Idgie."_

"_No, you're not," I whispered, shaking my head._

"_Idgie…" she tried to pull me close, but I had stood up and was backing away. _

"_I HATE YOU!" I screamed. "HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME? YOU LOVE ME!"_

"_Idgie!" she yelled one more time as I ran up the steps into the house. I kicked the wall as I ran past and yanked a picture down from the wall without stopping to see what it was of. _

_In my room, I locked the door and just started throwing things. I'd never been so mad in my life. My heart raced and I kept thinking the same things over and over. How could she leave? We loved each other, I knew that and she knew that, so why was she doing this? Was it for her Momma? To hell with her Momma; what about me? How could she do this to me?_

_A knock came on the door just then. "Idgie, what are you doing in there?" shouted Poppa's voice._

"_GO AWAY!" I yelled and threw a book at the door. Kicking the bedside table, I ended up knocking off a lamp and stubbing my toe in the process, which only served to anger me more. _

_Momma joined Poppa outside the bedroom. "Imogene Louise Threadgoode! Open this door!"_

"_No! Go the hell away!" I screamed, voice breaking. Finally the tears came, and I started sobbing, still breaking everything I could reach. Nobody tried to get me out for a few minutes, and then I heard a knock so soft and sweet it could only be one person. _

"_LEAVE ME ALONE, GODDAMMIT!" I yelled at Ruth through the door, picking up the trash can and throwing it as hard as I could. I heard Momma tell the others to leave, but Ruth stayed. She tried again. "Idgie, it's me."_

"_Get away!" _

"_I want to talk to you," she pleaded. _

"_Leave me alone!" _

"_Please, don't be like this."_

"_Get the hell away from the door and I mean it!" I threw another book. _

"_Please let me in," Ruth begged. Was she crying? I couldn't tell._

"_NO!" I choked. I was crying, and I was sure it was obvious in my voice._

"_Please, honey." She was leaving me, and she still called me honey? _

"_NO!"_

"_IDGIE, OPEN THIS GODDAMNED DOOR RIGHT THIS MINUTE, AND I MEAN IT! DO YOU HEAR ME?" _

_I had never heard Ruth talk like that before. The shock of it was enough to make me stop crying and open the door. She could be terrifying when she wanted to, I realized then. _

_Entering the room, Ruth sighed as she surveyed the damage. "Why are you acting like this? You knew I was going to have to leave sometime."_

"_Then why cain't you let me go with you?" I asked desperately. Didn't she know I couldn't be away from her?_

"_I told you why."_

"_Then stay here," I tried again. _

"_I cain't."_

_She was being so calm, and it was making me so mad I didn't know what to do. "WHY NOT?"_

_Ruth frowned. Slightly less calm, but still composed enough to make my blood boil. "Would you quit that yelling? You're embarrassing me and your mother. The whole house can hear you."_

"_I don't care."_

"_Well, I do. Why are you acting like such a baby?"_

_I knew I was acting like a baby. But I was desperate for her to stay with me. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO GO!"_

"_Idgie," she scolded, "have you lost your mind? What are people gonna think of a big grown girl like you acting like an I-don't-know-what?"_

"_I DON'T CARE!" I screamed again._

_And then she started cleaning my room. She was acting like my goddamned mother, all calm and mature and perfect and I was just dying, and I needed her with me and couldn't she see that? "Why are you gonna marry that man?" I challenged._

"_I told you why."_

_That wasn't good enough. "Why?" _

"_Because I want to, that's why," she huffed._

"_You don't love him," insisted._

"_Yes I do."_

_She may as well have slapped me. But I wasn't giving up. "Oh no you don't. You love me. You know you do. You know you do!" _

"_Idgie, I love him and I'm going to marry him." _

_She was so convincing then, and that was when I realized. She couldn't love me. She was Ruth Jamison, she could have any man she wanted. She was twenty-one years old and untouched and perfect and ready for the world, and I was a sixteen year old kid. I knew she couldn't love me, but I would never let her know that. I kept screaming and sobbing. "YOU'RE A LIAR AND I HATE YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE! I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE! I HATE YOU!"_

_Ruth shook me by the shoulders as I kept screaming that I hated her. Finally she said, "Stop it! Do you hear me!" and slapped me across the face. _

_I stared at her, and she stared at me. The room was eerily quiet. Ruth's eyes were shocked for a moment, and then they set, hard and determined, and she turned around and left. _

Lying out on the summer grass that night, I was confused. A few minutes ago I had been so certain of her love, positive that she would stay here and be with me, but after diving back into that memory, I wasn't sure. Did she love me? Had she been lying when she said she loved Frank, or did she mean it?

She came out and sat next to me on the grass then, and the giddy feeling returned. Even in the midst of all this confusion, was I so lovesick that just her _presence_ could make me forget everything?

I was still a bit scared, though, so I waited for Ruth to speak first. She didn't say anything, and eventually she stood up and went back inside.

After that I couldn't take it. I headed off into the woods to think.

I sat down on a log and just listened. There wasn't much wind, but the leaves just rustled enough. Somewhere, an owl hooted. Crickets surrounded me, singing for everyone to hear, but the cicadas nearly drowned them out. I'd always loved them, and, since it was nearing the end of September, I wouldn't have much longer to listen. I let their low, droning buzz fill my ears until I relaxed. Drinking in the sound, I tried to absorb it so I would have enough to last me until next summer.

Finally, I sighed and stood up. I was ready, and it was time to talk to Ruth.


	4. First Time

A/N: This was actually the first chapter I wrote for this story. It's been waiting a long time to be published, so it had better get lots of reviews! :) **BE WARNED: This chapter contains lovely, M-rated, femmeslash lemons! **You've reached the end of the dialogue copying- from here on out the characters' words are my own (but sadly, not the characters).

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fried Green Tomatoes or any of its lovely sexy women.

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_Ruth_

As I sat on my bed, reading the Bible- what else?- there came a knock on my door. I knew Sipsey was down in the kitchen; I could hear plates and pots banging around. The sky outside my window was dark, so most of the Threadgoode family, I knew, was asleep. There was only one person who would be walking around this late.

Had it been anyone else, I would have rolled over and hidden the Bible under the sheets, so that in case they came in, I could pretend to have fallen asleep with the lights on. But I knew it had to be Idgie, so I softly called, "Come in," and sure enough, the door opened silently to reveal my best friend standing in the doorway.

When she saw the Bible in my hands, she looked relieved and said, "Oh, good, I didn't wake you up. I hoped you were awake."

I shook my head. "Couldn't sleep," I replied hoarsely. "There's too much going on."

"Ain't that the truth," Idgie laughed nervously. Then she shivered.

"Oh, sorry," I said, scooting over. "Come in here." I lifted up the blanket and Idgie gratefully crawled in, taking care to stay far on the other side of the bed. Then we lapsed into silence. And as Idgie stared at her hands, I watched her. I watched her chest rise and fall, her hands tremble slightly. My hands were shaking too, and I didn't know why. Five years ago, that summer, we had been as close as sisters. Now she was making me nervous. Five years ago her hair had been long and unkempt, but now she wore it cut above her shoulders, and it was clean and shiny. She still wore men's clothes, long pants held up with suspenders and a white shirt. There was still a look of pigheadedness on her face, masking pain. So she still hid pain behind that face. My same old Idgie.

Finally, something made Idgie look up. "I missed you," she remarked quietly, touching my shoulder for a second. Her eyes found the bruise on my face where Frank had hit me; a moment later, her fingers brushed against it. Involuntarily, I flinched and pulled away.

"Sorry," Idgie said quickly. "I shoulda known you'd be all jumpy." More slowly this time, making sure I could see that she was going to touch me, she placed her fingertips back on the bruise.

I should have expected the feeling. I'd known I loved her for over five years. But I was still surprised when my heart started pounding as her skin made contact with mine. Keeping my face turned toward Idgie so she could inspect the injury, I glanced away with my eyes.

"What're you scared of?" Her thumb brushed lightly against my cheek. "He ain't gonna hurt you no more."

A tear leaked out, despite my rapid blinking. I wiped it away quickly, but Idgie saw. "Hey," she whispered. "Hey, don't cry…"

Her gentle tone set me to sobbing. Idgie held me and let me cry on her for a few minutes, and then I shakily sat up and drew a hand across my eyes. "Sorry," I rasped, even hoarser than I had been when she first knocked on my door.

Idgie shook her head and drew me into another brief hug. "I figure you got a right to cry. But you're safe now." And we resumed our silence. I could see that she was still hurting. So I told her what I had told her parents earlier that night.

"Idgie, I'm so sorry," I blurted out. Flinging my arms around her, I squeezed as tight as I could.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, trying to play dumb. But she had started crying, I could tell, and she knew exactly what I was talking about.

I squeezed tighter and smoothed a hand down her hair. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I married him. I'm so, so sorry. I love you, Idgie."

She pulled back, tears streaming down her face, genuinely surprised. "What?"

Very gently, I took her face between my hands. "I love you, you silly Bee Charmer." Then I leaned forward and kissed her.

She tasted like honey and cigarettes and… herself. There was no other way to explain it- it was the very essence of Idgie, mysterious and brave and crazy and somehow forbidden, everything that made her what she was. Everything about the summer we spent together all those years ago came sweeping over me. The nights on the porch swing, laughing and talking; running around in the woods like wild animals; Idgie bringing me a jar of honey straight out of the hive, scaring me to death. The way she had looked at me when I told her I was leaving… I remembered it all, and wrapped my arms tighter around her.

When I pulled back, she brought one trembling hand up by my ear and stroked my hair. "You mean it?"

"'Course I do. I've always loved you." It hurt, almost physically, to see how surprised she was. She hadn't known I loved her. "I wish you had known that. I wish…"

She shook her head. "I knew. I just…" Apparently she didn't have much interest in finishing her sentence, however- instead she leaned towards me and kissed me, gently at first. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly, and parted her lips a little. I raised my eyebrows, but didn't object.

Frank rarely kissed me, and his touch certainly never made me feel like Idgie's did. My heart leapt as she pushed me until I was laying back and she was on top of me. For a moment I wanted nothing more than for her to continue what she was doing. Then an image flooded my head- me on my wedding night, and Frank on top of me.

I shuddered and gasped, and Idgie pulled away. "What- what'd I do? Oh, honey, I'm sorry; just tell me what it is…" For I had covered my face with my hands and was lying back on my pillow, shaking.

Taking a few deep breaths, I slowly lowered my hands. "What'd I do?" Idgie whispered again, pushing my hair out of my face.

"You didn't do anything," I murmured. "It's Frank- he… he…. On the night we got married- and some other times- he…." I frantically shook my head and brought my hands up again to cover my face. But Idgie didn't need me to say any more.

"I'll kill him!" she almost yelled, yanking my hands away, kissing me on the forehead and cheeks furiously. "I'll kill him, Ruth. _Nobody_ can do that to you!" Squirming in her grip as she continued to press her lips to my skin, I fought to get hold of her shoulders so I could push her away and talk to her.

Finally I succeeded. "Idgie," I said firmly, "it's done. You're not gonna kill him and you're gonna forget I ever told you that." She started to protest, but I cut her off. "It's done."

Incredulously, Idgie said, "But you can't expect me to ignore what you just told me!"

"It doesn't matter anymore." I wove my fingers through her hair. "I'm far away from Frank Bennett now."

"How can you say that?" Idgie cried. "'It doesn't matter'? Of course it matters, he- he beat you and now he raped you, and you tell me to forget you even said anything? I mean- God, Ruth, I love you! I can't let him get away with that!" She hugged me ferociously until I nearly couldn't breathe.

I kissed her on the back of the neck- the only part of her I could reach. Then I began to whisper in her ear. "Idgie, I swear I'm alright. Calm down… tell me a story or something if it helps."

Slowly she untwined her arms from around me and shook her head. "I'm fine." And once again she started pressing her lips to my cheeks, less urgently this time. I grew impatient after a moment, though, and turned my head to catch her mouth with mine. As she grinned, I felt her lips move apart and then rearrange themselves around my own. "Ruth," she moaned into me, and her hands raked down my body, over my breasts and to my waist.

I shivered out of pleasure, but also from fear that this was summoning from memories of Frank. Once again I pushed them aside and tentatively grasped Idgie's waist. She sighed and her legs moved apart, wrapping themselves around my hips. I knew what came next, and though a part of me wanted it, I couldn't stop myself from gasping and pulling away.

"Idgie," I panted. "Wait."

"Wha- oh," she sighed and shook her head, understanding. "I'm sorry, you keep making me forget."

I had to laugh at this- the thought of _me_ making anyone forget themselves was entertaining, and the fact that it was Idgie doubly so.

"I'm serious," she said. "I can't think straight!"

Frowning, I felt my brow wrinkle. "Do you want this?" I didn't have to clarify what I meant by 'this,' the fact that she was straddling me was a hint enough. Idgie nodded. "I do too," I continued. "But I'm scared."

Idgie couldn't suppress a grin when I said I wanted her. "It's okay," she soothed. "I'll help you. It'll be different than Frank, I promise."

"It's not only that," I replied, shaking my head. "I think… I think there must be something wrong with me. 'Cause I've never felt anything when Frank…"

Once again, Idgie silenced me. "That was rape," she said flatly. "This is love. You'll feel it." Her certainty was contagious. I took a deep breath, feeling my heart flutter in my chest, and nodded. I leaned up and she leaned down, and our lips met in the middle.

For a while we just kissed- I think she was letting me get comfortable with the idea. Our hands wandered a bit, and finally hers found its way under my nightgown. Very, very carefully, she slid it inside my panties, and her fingers brushed against something that sent a small convulsion throughout my body.

I gasped, and Idgie grinned at me, still panting. "Feel that?" I could only nod back, quite out of breath myself. "I told you so." When she pulled my nightgown off and threw it to the side, my heart leapt nervously again, but I let her do it. _I want this._

Now naked except for my underwear, I lay flat on the bed, letting Idgie look at me. After a moment she smiled and slid her suspenders off of her shoulders. I helped with the buttons on her shirt and pants, and before long I was undoing the clasp on her almost unnecessary bra. I wasn't surprised to see that she had very small breasts, barely bigger than a child's, but I was a bit shocked at how much I suddenly wanted to reach up and touch one. Even more shocking was the fact that I did.

Somewhere along the line our underwear got kicked off, and it finally registered with me- I was about to have sex with Idgie Threadgoode. Arguments against it sprung up in my head- most having to do with God, and a few about me being a married woman and what Frank would do if he found out. But after a few moments, I gave up. I was going to do what I wanted, and I wanted Idgie more than anything. So all I did was deepen the kiss.

Finally, apparently after she decided I wasn't going to pull away again, Idgie's hand crept lower and touched the same spot she had brushed with her fingers earlier. My legs twitched and I gasped, breaking the hold her lips had on mine. Then her fingers began to move.

It was extraordinary, the feeling she sent through me. Every time Frank had come to my room, I had only prayed it would be over quickly. This was nothing like those nights. I felt sweat break out on my skin and Idgie's, and each motion she made with her hand sent another tremor through my body.

Gradually I felt myself longing to make Idgie feel the way she was making me feel. Very uncertainly I placed my hand on her body where I thought hers was on me, and I was surprised to feel her legs jerk as mine had. She smiled, panting. "Don't be scared," she managed to gasp, kissing me on the neck. And I wasn't scared anymore. I mirrored Idgie's motions and even tried a few things of my own, noting what she seemed to like and what she didn't.

As we continued on with what we were doing, I felt a burning start between my legs. It wasn't unpleasant- merely unfamiliar. Our breathing grew uneven and higher-pitched. Then all of a sudden I couldn't think. Convulsions wracked my body as Idgie's fingers continue to move. It was all I could do to keep moving mine. After a moment I felt her body begin to shake as well. Maybe I screamed, I couldn't tell. But I did understand why Frank always yelled as he came- it was pure pleasure, pleasure that filled every cell of my body and made me feel as if I was going to explode.

It was over as suddenly as it began, and Idgie collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard. I lay there dazed for a while, recovering from the astonishing power that had rippled through my body. I felt Idgie's lips press to my forehead and realized that she had regained the ability to think. Then she kissed me on the mouth and slid off of me. Without thinking about it, I rolled onto my side, facing away from her. She flung an arm across my shoulders and pulled me close, and my eyes slid closed.


	5. Naked

A/N: Okay, for once, submissions are coming really fast! I would love a few reviews to let me know if I should keep this going, 'cause I've got three other chaptered fics running at the moment I could be giving this time to. So please, just a quick review to say keep it or drop it would be awesome! Thanks!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fried Green Tomatoes.

* * *

_Idgie_

I woke up naked. Usually when I woke up naked, I was in the River Club, with Eva's bright red hair in my face and a massive headache pounding in my brain. Today, though, my head was fine and the curls in my face were a much softer shade of red- more brown, actually. Strangest of all, I was in my own house, in the guest bedroom.

The guest bedroom. _Ruth._

Sure enough, it was Ruth who slept in my arms. _I slept with Ruth._

I just lay there for a few minutes, blinking as I tried to process the idea. I mean, sure, I'd thought about her that way before, but I never expected I'd ever actually sleep with her. Running over last night's events in my mind, I tried to remember every detail. Her shyness, our tears, the way she whispered, "I love you, you silly Bee Charmer…" – all of it had been as real as the woman I held in my arms.

Suddenly the idea of time came to me as the sunlight pouring into the room grew a bit stronger. Last night I had come in at about ten or eleven, I figured, and we had stayed up for maybe… I had no idea. An hour? An hour and a half? And what time was it now? Judging by the sun, it was at least nine. So how long had we slept? How long did Ruth need to sleep? After all, shouldn't she be exhausted from yesterday?

Ruth's head lay on top of my right arm, and it was cutting off the circulation to my hand. Wincing, I tried to shift my position without waking her up. But Ruth moaned and rolled over onto her back, hands drifting up to wipe over her eyes.

Finally, she blinked a few times and her eyes focused on my face. She smiled sleepily, then frowned, then gasped. "Oh Lord, Idgie… did we… I mean, I… you… Idgie, we…"

I nodded. "We had sex last night," I muttered, laughing a little.

"Oh Lord," Ruth groaned again. "Sweet Jesus…"

The reality stung. _She regretted it. _"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard. Please don't be mad; I promise I won't do it again."

"You won't do it again?" she said, pushing herself up on one elbow. "Even if I want you to?"

"What?" I asked, genuinely confused. "I thought, when you said 'sweet Jesus,' that you meant you wished you hadn't done it. You want me to do it again?"

"Of course I do," laughed Ruth. "I was just surprised to realize it was real. I mean, I've wanted that to happen for about five years now."

"Ruth Bennett," I murmured into her ear, "you just made me the happiest woman in Alabama. Maybe even the whole country."

"Mmmm," she sighed, and kissed me on the forehead. Then she lifted her head. "Not Bennett. Anything but Bennett, please."

I smiled. "Ruth Jamison, then."

Ruth chuckled. "I kind of like Threadgoode, actually."

"Ruth Threadgoode," I tried it out. She frowned, half-laughing again.

"You know, as much as I like the idea of having your name, it isn't the best-sounding combination out there," she sighed. "But I know for sure I don't want Bennett. I'm going to town today and changing my name back," she said decidedly.

I pouted. "Well what am I supposed to do here all by myself?"

"I don't know," Ruth laughed. "What do you usually do?"

That didn't help any. _Usually_ I went into the woods, or over to Troutville, or fishing in the river, or down to the River Club. _Usually_ I didn't have Ruth here. Now that she was back, I couldn't even begin to see spending a minute away from her (though that would change in the future).

Giving her the puppy dog face, I whined, "But I'll miss you if you're gone!"

"Oh, Idgie," Ruth pulled me into a hug, laughing. The mood in the room instantly changed when she whispered, "I love you, Idgie Threadgoode."

I moaned with pleasure. "You have no idea how nice it is hearing you say that."

"Well, I like saying it," she replied. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she sighed again and again, punctuating with kisses to my lips.

Then came a knock on the door. I cursed in a whisper. "Girls," I heard Momma's voice say, "Sipsey's made your breakfast, so come and get it if you want it hot."

Ruth looked panic-stricken. "She knows we're both in here! She knows what we did!" she hissed.

"Shhh, it's okay," I soothed. "It doesn't matter; nobody here'll care."

My beautiful, nervous lover bit her lip. "But… how do you know?"

"Do you love me?" I whispered. She nodded. "And you know I love you." Another nod. "They know that, and they want us to be happy. They won't mind what we did up here."

Finally believing me, Ruth slipped out of bed to get dressed. I watched her openly, and she looked a bit shy, so I smiled. She smiled back and slid her dress over her head. I quickly jumped up and yanked on the same clothes I had thrown off the night before. Once we were both ready, we walked downstairs hand-in-hand.

"I've got it!" I yelled halfway through breakfast, jumping up. "Ruth, I know what I'm gonna do today!"

Everyone else looked confused, but Ruth smiled. "What?"

I leaned down to whisper in her ear, just adding to the rest of the table's puzzlement, and when I finished Ruth gasped, apparently horrified.

"Idgie, that's terrible!"

All the same, I was going to do it. After breakfast, Ruth went into town to change her name back to Jamison, and I went into town to tell everyone that Frank Bennett had been run over by a Brinks armored truck.


	6. Goddess

A/N: More lemons ahead!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own it.

* * *

That night I went to Ruth's room again, not entirely sure what would happen. She looked happy to see me there, though, so I sat on the edge of the bed and waited as she finished the end of whatever part of the Bible she was reading. Then she carefully marked her place with a ribbon and reached past me to set her book on the bedside table.

"Did you want to come in?" she offered, and lifted the blanket and scooted over so I would have room.

I shook my head. "Ruth…. Last night was… amazing. But I was just trying to make you see that I love you and that it's gonna be very different here than with Frank. This time I wanna do things right."

Ruth raised her eyebrows, and a hint of pink flushed her cheeks. "What do you mean, 'do things right'?"

Gently I brushed a hand across her blushing face and pressed my lips to hers for just a moment. "I'm going to love you the way you deserve to be loved," I murmured into her ear. Then, once again, I captured her lips with mine.

I had thought about this a lot throughout the day. The night before had been needy- both of us trying desperately to show the other our love. I had also been trying to soothe Ruth, to prove to her that what Frank did to her is _not_ love. But this was going to be different. Ruth was the most beautiful woman on the planet. If I had her, then I was going to show how grateful I was, for one thing. Besides, I was sticking by my theory of angels masquerading as people. If Ruth was an angel- and I thought surely she must be, if not a goddess- then she deserved to be admired and pleasured to no end.

So, with that decision made, I slid my tongue forward, asking entrance, and she parted her lips to let me in. Carefully and oh-so-slowly, I pulled her nightgown up. When it was all gathered under her arms I lifted her wrists over her head and slid it off, my lips only leaving hers for the tiniest of moments. Ruth, as we kissed lazily, began to undo my buttons, and it was then that I pulled away, shaking my head and pressing her stomach to make her lay down.

"You," I said as I placed my feet on the floor and stood, "don't get to do anything tonight." She pouted, but just for a moment. Then her eyes grew wide as I unbuttoned my own shirt. I slid it off my shoulders, and then proceeded to take off my shorts, staring straight into Ruth's eyes the whole time. The bra was tricky, but I was… shall we say practiced?... at this sort of thing, and I managed to undo the clasp behind my back with little difficulty. Then my underwear was off and I was back, straddling Ruth and kissing her again.

My decision was becoming harder to stick by. The feeling of her tongue in my mouth made my skin tingle. I wanted to feel her hands on me. It was almost a relief—an excruciatingly painful relief, but at least I would be able to clear my head a bit—when her small hands pushed on my shoulders and she gasped for breath.

I took advantage of the break to slide her underwear off. Then, for a long moment, I let my eyes wander over her figure. Her skin reddened under my examination. A bruise still decorated her cheek, but I found her impossibly beautiful. I watched her chest rise and fall a few times, noting the lamplight on her round breasts. Goosebumps rose on her stomach as I lightly drew my fingers over the skin. My eyes slid lower, and she squirmed uncomfortably. I touched her thigh, trying to reassure her.

"You're beautiful," I whispered. Ruth's eyes closed and she smiled. Then she looked at me again and sat up to kiss me on the forehead. Her lips stayed there for a long time, and she held tightly onto me. Finally I murmured, "Ruth." She leaned back and I gently pressed on her shoulders to make her lie back. "Are you ready?"

I could almost hear her heart pounding, and she looked afraid, but she nodded. I frowned. "Ruth, if you aren't ready—if you want me to slow down—that's okay," I whispered. "You know that, don't you?"

Her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath and fell as she let it out. She closed her eyes for a minute, biting her lip, and then opened them and smiled. "I'm ready," she whispered. This time I believed her.

"I love you," I whispered one last time before pressing my entire body to hers and sliding my tongue between her lips. I kissed her nose, her cheeks, her ears; I nibbled on her earlobes and delighted in her giggle; I sucked hard on her neck and received a moan.

She breathed in sharply when I kissed the top of her breast, and moaned loudly when I placed my mouth on her nipple. Quickly I looked up to make sure she was okay with what I was doing, but she breathed, "Don't stop," so I didn't stop.

I flicked my tongue across her nipple, teasing it, and felt her squirm. She was rubbing her thighs together—a sign that I was doing well. I pulled back and blew on her breast, and she shivered as the cold air met her wet skin. Then I brought my mouth down to her other nipple. By then I was burning for her, and I could feel that I was soaked. The way her hips twitched every few seconds showed me that she felt the same way. But I was just getting started.

Kissing up to her left shoulder and down her arm, I reached the fingers and, careful to keep eye contact, sucked on every single one until they were wrinkled. I repeated this with the other hand and by the end of it her breath was coming in gasps. Between her breasts I planted a kiss, trailing downwards, over her chest and stomach and then veering left to kiss her hip bone. Down the inside of her thigh, to the back of her knee, now the foot—each toe—and to the other leg. I went back to her breasts then, sucking her hard nipples once again, and she wouldn't stop moaning.

"Idgie… please!" she gasped.

"Please what, Ruth?" I asked softly, grinning as I looked up at her.

"I- I don't know, just do something! What you did last night?"

I shook my head. "Even better." Kissing down her stomach again, I finally reached my destination. Gently, trying not to scare her, I pushed her legs apart. "I love you," I whispered before sliding my tongue into her.

I heard a gasp and felt hands fist in my hair. She was enjoying it, then, from the sounds she was making. Maybe too much; she sounded a little frantic. Soothingly, or at least I hoped so, I rubbed a hand up and down the outside of her thigh. With my other hand I used the thumb to stroke her clit, inciting more gasps and high-pitched whimpers.

"Idgie—oh, God, Idgie," she panted, and then half-screamed, holding my hair tighter. "More, please!" She was close, I could feel it. I started rubbing harder, swirling my tongue faster.

"Honey, I'm—" she never finished her sentence. It was cut off with a strangled cry as she clenched around me. I kept rubbing gently as she rode out her orgasm, moaning and gasping my name as her body quivered. When it was over, I licked her clean and rose up, lying down beside her. She was still trembling, and I kissed her while murmuring nonsense to try and get her to calm down.

Finally her breathing slowed and she rolled over to kiss my forehead again. Both of us were covered in sweat, and her face was flushed. "Idgie, that was… I don't know. I didn't know people could _do_ that," she laughed.

I smiled back. "Did you like it?"

With a shaky sigh, she laid back. "Of course I did, silly. Do you want me to…?"

Shaking my head, I snuggled in close. I was happy after satisfying her, and we had plenty of time in the future. "Tomorrow," I murmured, almost as tired as she must have been. "And the next day and the next day and the next day…"

Ruth laughed softly. Her eyes slid closed as I continued to mumble, counting day after day and night after night we could spend together.


	7. Ours

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own FGT.**

**A/N: Oh yeah! Updated all my chaptered fics in one day!!! So proud.**

I rolled over in bed, frowning before I realized what was wrong. As my eyes opened, I noted the problem and was out from under Idgie's arm in a second. Both hands over to my mouth, I stumbled to the bathroom and didn't even have a chance to flip on the light before I was knelt in front of the toilet, throwing up violently.

"Ruth?" I heard Idgie's voice say worriedly before the light came on. "Oh, God, honey!" she exclaimed and quickly sat beside me, smoothing a hand up and down my back. "Momma!" she yelled after a minute. "Sipsey! Somebody!"

It didn't last long. Shaking, I leaned back into Idgie's arms and she pushed my hair off my forehead. I closed my eyes and rested until Idgie said, "Ruth's sick." Looking up to find out who she was talking to, I saw Sipsey standing in the doorway.

"Come on," she said, motioning for us to follow her. Idgie helped me up, but the sick feeling was quickly passing. In fact, I felt almost normal as she led me to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Are you alright?" Sipsey asked, standing over me with hands on hips. Idgie knelt on the floor, resting her chin on the mattress and looking up at me.

I nodded. "I feel fine now," I assured her. Her hand went to my forehead. "No fever," she said out loud.

"If she feels fine and she's got no fever, then what just happened?" Idgie demanded, sounding panicked. I smiled down at her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

"You ain't noticed anything different happening the past few weeks?" Sipsey asked, frowning in thought.

"My face…" I murmured. Then I added more clearly,"My skin broke out." Sipsey's frown deepened.

"Your breasts hurt?" she asked. Idgie looked up at her. I blushed, but nodded. "A little."

Sipsey's next question made me blush even deeper. "When was your last period, honey?"

"A while ago," I said softly, looking down at my lap. "Almost two months."

"And you didn't tell nobody?" Idgie asked.

I shook my head. "I didn't really think about it. I've skipped before; the doctor told me stress could cause it. I always thought it was because of Frank."

"I don't think this time is stress, Miz Ruth."

I could have guessed as soon as I put all the symptoms together. It was obvious, really. I was getting sick, my skin had broken out, my breasts hurt and they were bigger, and, most importantly of all, I had missed a period.

So, I knew before Sipsey told me that I was pregnant.

She must have seen in my face that I knew, because she didn't say anything for a minute. Idgie looked like she didn't want to believe it. "Sipsey," she said, "you don't think…?"

"Miz Ruth's gonna have a baby," the older woman said gently.

She left us after making sure I was alright, and Idgie and I slid back into bed. The sky was just starting to turn grey, and I was shaking again. My lover's arms snaked around me, and I knew my trembling didn't go unnoticed.

I had been living at the Threadgoode house for a month by then, and I knew Idgie so well I could almost tell what she would say to anything I told her, before she said it. The way she didn't say anything, just held me tightly and rubbed her hand up and down on my arm, let me know that she was scared. Her silence was making me uncomfortable.

After a few more minutes, I rolled onto my back. "Well, say something," I mumbled dully.

Idgie slipped her fingers between mine and gave my hand a squeeze. "What do you want me to say?" she laughed uncomfortably.

"I don't know," I sighed, frustrated. "Something!"

She squeezed my hand again. "Do you want it?"

I hadn't let myself think that far yet. Now that the baby was inside of me, now that it was growing and living and its heart was beating inside my body, I didn't want it gone. I wanted to experience the joy that I had heard talked about, the joy and knowledge that I was bringing life into the world. That this little person would be made from my body, and would grow in my womb and, eventually, lie in my arms.

I was in awe as I let myself think about it.

But all the same, for each story about a happy mother giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby, there seemed to be one about a miscarriage, or a crippled or retarded child, or the mother not making it. I hadn't planned for this to happen; it wasn't my choice to put myself in this kind of position. What if my body, after all of the beatings, wasn't strong enough to support a child? What if I lost the baby?

Images filled my head then—of me just before my wedding, crying for Idgie. Of Frank beating my, my body flung into a wall. Raping me, creating this child that was his as much as mine. Of Buddy Threadgoode, almost my exact age, always smiling and knowing everything would be alright. The agony Momma Threadgoode's eyes when he died. Of Idgie as a laughing, happy baby—I remembered, though I was just five when she was born. Of friends, married earlier than I, holding their newborn children in their arms. Old women at church, teary-eyed thinking of their sons and daughters. Someday, of me, holding my own baby. Watching it grow, raising it with not Frank, but with the woman I loved.

"Of course I want it," I breathed, realizing that I truly did only a split second before saying it.

"Well then, what's there to say?" she smiled at me, slipping her hand through mine.

* * *

Three months later, my stomach was beginning to be rounded and Sipsey, with all her superstitions, swore to me it would be a boy. When I asked how she knew, she wouldn't tell me. Idgie laughed when I told her this, but said to believe her.

Idgie seemed tireder lately, which I guess I could understand. When the family found out I was pregnant, her father lent her some money to open a café. We worked hard getting it ready—or, she did. Every time I tried to do something, I was waved away and told to 'take it easy'. At first, it was frustrating, and I usually managed to find an easy job to do—cooking with Sipsey or painting or something. When I got further along, I still tried to work, knowing it would be rude not to at least try, but I was always grateful when told to go sit down. My exhaustion was constant and often all-consuming, which meant Idgie usually had to pick up the slack.

Needless to say, we weren't doing much besides sleeping at night.

One night, though, she came in late as I was lying awake, trying to get comfortable. She kissed me right away, and her hands caressed my swollen belly like she thought it was beautiful. Her head went down, and her tongue went to work, and all the while her hands never left my stomach. After it was over, she kissed first where the baby was enlarging my body, and then my mouth.

"I love you," I sighed, in awe at how she still wanted me even like this.

"Love you too," she replied, curling up close. I could tell she was going to go to sleep, so I hurried to prevent it.

"Idgie."

"Mmm."

"You think I should believe Sipsey that it's a boy?"

I felt her head move up and down in a nod. "She's superstitious, but she's usually right." Her voice was slurred with sleep.

"I got a name for him," I told her proudly.

"Mmm?"

"Yes," I said, laughing a little. "Wake up, silly. This is important."

After some effort, Idgie was sitting up and sounding more coherent when she asked, "So what's his name?"

I smiled at her. "Buddy, Jr."

"Who's last name?" she asked with a yawn.

"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. He is Frank's, Idgie, but I don't want him to be _Frank's_, do you understand? I don't want Frank to be his daddy."

"So Jamison?"

"I was thinking not."

She didn't say anything.

"I love you, Idgie," I continued, "And I want you to be his Momma, too. I want to raise him together and I want him to have your name."

"Buddy Threadgoode, Jr.," she tried it out. Then she turned to me. "And you think I'm old enough to be a momma?"

I smiled. "I hope so, 'cause I wouldn't ask anyone else."

"I love you. And of course I'll be his momma," she whispered, kissing me.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

Then, as if seized by the same thought at the same time, we looked down at my stomach. "Goodnight, Buddy," we whispered together.

* * *


	8. Buddy, Jr

**A/N: Oh my God. I am so, so, so sorry this took so incredibly long. I swear I wrote it forever ago on OpenOffice, then mom rebooted the computer and forbade me from re-downloading it. I couldn't convert it to Word so I had to start over. Meanwhile, I was doing a summer intensive and a show, which means no time whatsoever. Yeah, I'm making up excuses a little bit. But it's here now. Please review!**

"Idgie, would you please sit down?" my brother Cleo sighed from his seat at the kitchen table. "She is gonna be just fine."

Cleo, Grady Kilgore, Eva, and I were in the kitchen, the three of them sitting and me pacing frantically. Poppa and Reverend Scroggins were in the living room. Momma, Sipsey, and Ninny were upstairs, where I desperately wanted to be, where Ruth was in labor.

I forced myself to stop pacing and sit next to my brother. My foot tapped the floor at a quick tempo until Cleo gave me another look and I stilled it. Involuntarily my fingers began to drum on the table. Eva covered my hand with hers and gave me a steadying look before patting it a few times and drawing back. Instantly my fingers started twitching again.

Footsteps on the stairs finally made me stop all movement for the first time since that morning and strain my neck to see who it was. Ninny rounded the corner, brow furrowed with worry.

"What happened?" I asked immediately, throwing myself out of my chair again.

"Nothing," she said without stopping her quick walk, "everything's fine. Don't worry."

"Ninny!" I exclaimed, striding over to where she stood at the sink, wetting a towel under the faucet. "Then why the hell do you look so worried?"

"I'm just in a hurry to get this up to her," she said, exasperated, waving the towel in the air. "It's nearly done now, Sipsey says."

I was relieved at the last sentence, but still agitated. "I still don't understand why I can't be up there," I grumbled, sitting myself down again.

"You'd just make it harder for her," Cleo shook his head, turning to me. "Now, normally you're able to calm her down but you're such a wreck right now you'd make her more scared. Besides, they don't need an extra body up there and you don't know the first thing about delivering a baby."

"Cleo, I'm scared for her," I sighed. "I want to be up there with her. What if, after all Frank did to her…?" I trailed off.

"I know how you feel, Idgie; I'd feel the same if it were Ninny giving birth. But you've got to trust Momma and Sipsey up there to know what they're doing. And Ruth's a strong woman, you've got nothing to worry about there."

Mumbling something about how much I loved her, I crossed my arms on the table and rested my head on them. Grady messed up my hair and we all sat in silence for a few minutes before we heard running footsteps on the stairs.

I was out of my seat in an instant, running down the hall and swinging around the banister like I'd been reprimanded for since I was a kid, to face Ninny running down the stairs.

"Sipsey was right, it's a boy!" she yelled, jumping up and down in her excitement. I ran at my sister-in-law, hugging her briefly before trying to dart past her to the second floor.

"No, wait, you can't go yet!" she exclaimed, catching me. "Momma and Sipsey are cleaning them up, you can go in a minute. Go tell everyone!"

The two of us ran for the living room, whooping and hollering. "It's a boy!" I yelled, seeing Cleo dash in from the kitchen and swing Ninny around. Poppa hugged me and everyone else let out loud exclamations of joy.

"I think a little prayer of thanks is in order—" Revered Scroggins began, but I cut him off.

"God damn it to hell, son of a bitch, she did it!" I shouted, and was faced with cheers as we began pouring drinks, waiting until we could see Ruth and Buddy Jr.

We didn't have to wait long. Sipsey came downstairs soon, assuring us that everything was fine and that Ruth was happy and waiting for us. All of us raced upstairs, but I was the first. I stopped, stunned, in the doorway, at the beautiful picture of my almost-wife lying exhausted and still beautiful, holding our newborn, sleeping child.

Ruth smiled at me, and cautiously I walked towards her. I wasn't good with babies, and I was sort of afraid I would break Buddy, Jr. But I couldn't resist her, and I knelt beside the bed and kissed her forehead, then his.

The room got louder as everyone filed in, but I barely noticed what was going on. I couldn't take my eyes off of Ruth and the baby.

* * *

Finally, everyone was gone, and I was left alone in the room with Ruth and Buddy.

"Hey, beautiful," I whispered, seating myself on the bed, facing the headboard. She smiled at me and reached out a hand, which I took gently and gave a squeeze.

"Hi," she said, laughing tiredly. "I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"I wanted to kick everyone else out," I admitted. "I've been waiting to get some time alone with you." Then I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. As I moved closer for another, she turned her head and kissed me back.

"Can I hold him?" I asked after we pulled away.

Ruth offered our son to me, and I handed her a beer from the bedside table. After giving me a disapproving look, she took a hearty swig.

I, meanwhile, was busy staring at Buddy, Jr. He was a pink baby, with a little bit of blond hair and Ruth's coffee-brown eyes. For a newborn, he was long and skinny and, to me, he seemed pretty strong. Though he was sleeping, his hands were balled into little fists. I slipped my finger into one of them and he gripped it tightly, uttering a little sigh and making a face.

"You've fallen hard for him already," Ruth said, breaking the silence, and without looking up I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I can't help it," I breathed. "He's wonderful."

"You're gonna be a great momma," she told me, inching up on the pillows and wrapping her arms around me.

"I love you," I whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I love you too," Ruth murmured back, and when we broke the embrace there were happy tears in both of our eyes. I climbed in bed next to her, and before long we were asleep, arms securely around each other and our beautiful son between us.


	9. Promises

**A/N: Quick update for once. I don't like this one much, though. I took some of Ruth's speech about praying and breaking Frank's neck from the film because I liked it, so it's in here. Please review!**

Months after Buddy's birth, Frank came back into my life. He appeared late one night with the KKK, not doing anything yet, just asking about the baby. I could tell he wanted him, and I was worried.

But time passed and he never showed up again. I was jumpy and nervous all the time, just waiting for him to come and take my child from me. When I had to leave him in Sipsey's care because I was going to the annual church revival, I worried every second I was gone. It wasn't that I didn't trust Sipsey, I just couldn't bear the idea of Frank being anywhere near Buddy, especially when I wasn't there.

When I came home from the revival, everyone seemed different somehow. Idgie was hiding something from me; there was a wall behind her eyes that I had never seen used against me. Smokey Lonesome had left town and nobody would tell me why. Big George was boiling hogs, same as always, but it seemed early to me. Sipsey was quieter when alone with me and chattier with everyone else. The only one that acted normal, causing me a certain amount of relief, was Buddy, the same happy and loving baby as ever.

Still, late at night a few days after the revival, after Buddy was asleep, the café was empty, and Idgie and I were in bed, I confronted her about it.

"Idgie… what's going on?" I asked. She didn't answer. "I know you're awake. I can't let you keep lying to me."

"I ain't lyin'," she sighed. "I never lied to you, Ruth. You've got to listen to me; it's better if you don't know."

"I _need_ to know, honey," I tried again. "Everyone knows but me."

She grinned. "Not everyone. It really doesn't even matter—"

"Idgie," I said firmly. "Smokey's gone, Sipsey won't talk to me but she can't shut her mouth around anyone else, George is boiling hogs weeks earlier than usual. And that Sheriff, Curtis Smoote. Frank's gone missing, but why's he looking here? It sounds like he thinks one of you killed him."

"Relax," she whispered, sliding in closer to me, snaking her arms around my body, and bringing her lips close to my ear. "If you're so worked up about it, what do you think is going on? You must have some idea?" Her tone was seductive, but I resisted.

"Do you want to know what I think?" I pulled back. "I don't know what to think. I'm scared out of my mind that Frank is gonna come back for Buddy and that he'll hurt one of you and I think you're all acting funny because you're worried about the same thing. Sometimes I wonder if I should just pack up and leave, and take Buddy. Frank wouldn't find us and you all would be safe. You could tell him I left and you didn't know where I'd gone, then he wouldn't come back here and hurt any of you and we could hide forever."

"Ruth…" Idgie murmured. "No, you can't leave, I…" she sounded frantic after a few more seconds. "Ruth, you don't understand; it's not mine to tell and it's safer for you if you don't know. Just please, please don't leave. I can't—"

"Shh," I soothed. This time I initiated the embrace, pulling her in towards me and holding her close. "I could never _want _to leave, I just feel like it would be safer for everyone if I left. Frank's dangerous and I don't want to bring that here. And I can't let him find me, I don't know what I'd do. It's better if I never see him again." Idgie tried to interrupt me, but I stopped her. "I've prayed my whole life, Idgie. I prayed when I first fell in love with you; I prayed whenever Frank would beat me; I prayed when my momma was sick and dying. Whatever I needed, strength, hope, forgiveness, I prayed. But if he tries to take Buddy from me, I won't pray. I'll kill him."

"Listen to me," she said deliberately. "You don't have to worry about him anymore."

I just shook my head. "He'll never stop. He'll never leave us alone."

"Ruth," she said, and her tone was so serious, intense, and almost pleading that I had to listen. "You will never have to worry about Frank Bennett again."

"You killed him," I breathed, shaking my head. I didn't know whether it was out of fear, disbelief, liberation, or some mixture.

"No," she said. She pressed a hand gently to my cheek. "I didn't kill him. But I can promise you that he's never coming back."

"So he is dead then."

"Yes," she whispered in my ear, as if afraid someone would hear her. "It wasn't me, honey, I promise."

"Who?" was all I could manage.

"I can't," Idgie replied, and I could tell that she wanted to. "All I can tell you is that it wasn't me, and that the person who did it won't be caught."

"They won't be caught? How could you know that?"

"They'll never find a body," she assured me. "Go to sleep."

Well, Idgie took her own advice, but I couldn't force my eyes to stay closed. No matter how much reassurance she offered, I wasn't convinced. Perhaps she thought the body had been hidden well enough, but what if it was found? From what I understood, the killer could have been Sipsey, Big George, or Smokey Lonesome. The courts would never believe a black man or woman, or a hobo, over a 'respectable' white man. Or what if Idgie had been lying, and she really had killed him? I wasn't sure how I'd feel about that; on one hand it was murder, but it was _Frank_, who had beat me and raped me for years and no doubt would have used the same violence to take Buddy away from us. Or what if he really wasn't dead at all; what if the whole thing had been a story invented to comfort me and he was still out there somewhere?

Early in the morning, while it was still dark, Idgie woke up and saw that my eyes were open.

"Have you slept at all?" she yawned, and I shook my head tiredly. "What, don't you trust me?"

"I don't know what to think," I sighed. "I know you tell stories, Idgie."

"I swear to you this isn't a story," she promised. "He's dead and you're safe."

If I still had doubts, her certain tone was banishing them. This had to be one thing that Idgie would never lie to me about.

"Okay," I said, shifting around on the pillows. "I believe you."


	10. Accident

**A/N: Told you I wasn't gone forever. This one's a bit short, but the second part was going to make it ridiculously long so I'm separating it. I've started chapter 11, so I certainly hope the wait won't be as long this time. Review, please!**

_Idgie_

"_Buddy, come back – Idgie, could you get him?" Ruth called from behind the counter, where a toddling Buddy had escaped her close eye._

"_Sure thing," I nodded. I quickly set the tray I had been carrying down on the corner of a table and swooped towards our eleven-month-old son. I swung him up and around when I reached him, his bright brown eyes sparkling as he giggled. "Got him!" I exclaimed, handing him over the countertop to Ruth. She set him down on the floor and used her foot to nudge into place the laundry basket we used as an obstacle to keep him from crawling under the break in the counter. _

"_Thanks, hun," she sighed, grinning and swiping a sweaty curl away from her eyes. _

_I couldn't help but smile at the picture before my eyes. It was happy – busy, yes, but pleasant. Ruth looked at peace, like Frank was the last thing on her mind. Buddy's giggles and babbling drifted from behind the counter. The cafe was full and everyone was talking loudly across the room. Noise belonged here. It made the scene complete._

_Noise did not belong at three o'clock in the morning. But unfortunately, it definitely existed. Buddy's cries split the night, to Ruth's and my groans of disappointment. _

"_I'll get him," I sighed, as we both began to sit up. "No, you lay back down, I'll take care of him." Ruth gratefully did so, and I slipped out of the room and next door to Buddy's. _

_At eleven months, he slept through the night most of the time. But on the nights he did wake up, it usually took him a few hours to fall back asleep. "Buddy," I groaned, leaning over the edge of the cradle and lifting him. I checked his diaper- it was clean. I got him a bottle- he wouldn't drink. I bounced him, I whispered, told him stories, even sang a lullaby. But no matter what I did, he wouldn't stop crying (I think the singing actually made it worse). Finally, exhausted, I carried him back to the our bedroom and set him in the middle of the bed. Ruth looked at me inquisitively, but I just shook my head. I slid in close and slipped an arm around both of them. Through our combined efforts of shushing and whispering to him, he finally stopped crying, and his wide brown eyes dropped closed._

"_Finally," I whispered with a laugh, looking up at Ruth. Then I noticed that her eyes were closed too. _

For some reason that memory stood out in my mind. Some of the others were more obvious – first steps, first word, first Christmas... but I didn't know why this one. But as I sat in the hospital waiting room, fingers going numb from Ruth's hand clutching mine so tightly, I couldn't get that particular memory out of my head.

When I heard the shouts coming from the tracks, reaching all the way up to the cafe, my heart nearly stopped. Suddenly it seemed as if I were thirteen years old again, and the hoarse, terrified shrieks of "Buddy!" were coming from my own mouth. I was outside before anyone else could react, stopping only to beg Ruth to stay where she was. She wouldn't have listened, I knew, if Sipsey didn't grab her and hold her back.

I, along with Big George, Smokey, and several other customers that had been in the cafe at the time, had raced down to the tracks. Buddy was there, lying on the ground, looking dazed – I figured he was probably numb from the shock – with his arm lying a few feet away.

"Oh God," I gasped, failing to stay calm as Big George lifted Buddy into his arms and carried him up, back into town, running for the doctor's house as fast as he could. By the time I caught up with him, they were scrambling into the car, shouting something about Birmingham, the hospital, and transfusions. Doc Hadley drove, I climbed in the front and twisted my back to face backwards, and George sat in the back, holding Buddy tightly.

I rattled my mouth a mile a minute, telling any story that would come to my mind just to try and get Buddy to calm down. Looking back, I think he was probably more calm than I was. My legs were shaking so badly that my feet bounced on and off of the floor. When we finally arrived, I was out of the car before it completely stopped, opening the back door for George. We took Buddy up to the door, and I slipped my hand into his remaining one, walking alongside Big George. Then, at the door, a nurse held up a hand, leaned in, and whispered to me, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to have your man wait outside. This is a white hospital."

For a moment the rage blinded me. I stepped forward, opening my mouth to argue, when Big George placed a hand on my shoulder. "Miss Idgie, you go on in there." I turned to see that Doc Hadley was already carrying Buddy down the hall. The child was staring back at me – no, at George. "Go on," he said again, "Go stay with your boy."

I took one step forward, turned back again, and then followed.

It ended up not doing much good, as they wouldn't let me go in the room with him. I was led to a waiting room, where I used a telephone to call Ruth at the cafe. I told her that Buddy seemed okay, and that Doc said he was going to be fine. She, of course, assured me that she was coming out to Birmingham as soon as she hung up the phone.

After she arrived, there was nothing to do but wait.


	11. Stump

**A/N: It's late, and it's short. All of my other stories are angst at this point and I'm getting sick of it, so the next chapter of this might be shameless fluffy smut. Enjoy and please review!**

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* * *

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_Idgie_

Buddy was fine. For a while that was the only thing my mind could process. He was weak and tired, and he would have to stay in the hospital for a while, but he was going to be okay. As soon as that became apparent, I immediately began calling him Stump.

His arm, of course, was a lost cause. He never said anything about it, and while Ruth thought we should ask how he felt about it, I personally thought it better to wait for him to bring it up. And he definitely had the chance; either Ruth or I was up with him at all times, while the other dozed in the waiting room or in a chair by the window.

Three days after the accident, I made Ruth go home. No matter how she tried to hide her exhaustion, it showed, and after enough badgering from me (supplemented by Buddy's eager encouragement) she agreed to get some rest.

"Now we can have some fun," I said, grinning, as soon as she was out the door.

For a while we played cards, gambling with gumballs I had gotten at the drug store across the street. It was something we knew Ruth would have frowned upon, and that made it twice as fun. Eventually, though, Buddy's curious self surfaced.

"Aunt Idgie?" he asked. He had just finished struggling to separate a card and lay it down one-handedly, without letting me see the rest.

"Hmm?" I frowned, looking through the cards in my hand. I was sitting on his bed cross-legged, with my shoes resting somewhere on the floor.

"You're not Momma's sister, are you?"

I looked up. "No," I said, wondering where that had come from.

"So… how come you're Aunt Idgie?"

"I dunno," I chuckled. "What do you want me to be?"

"Well, what are you?" he asked a little more insistently.

After a glance at the door, I laid down my cards on the bed and tucked my legs up under myself. "Stump… you know most people have a momma and a daddy?" He nodded. "And that mommas and daddies love each other." He frowned, but nodded again. "Well, sometimes people are… well I guess that part doesn't matter so much."

"You're not very good at this story," he interrupted suddenly.

"I'm trying," I laughed. "Gimme a sec." After another short pause to think, I continued. "I guess it doesn't matter how or why… what matters is I love your momma and I'd do anything for her. Okay?"

I watched Stump's angelic face scrunch up and his brown eyes narrow in confusion. "Why didn't you just say so?"

God, why couldn't everyone think like a child? I grinned widely and shrugged. "Some people don't like it. But your momma knows that and she knows that she's… the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Gross," he giggled, as any kid will at the mention of any kind of love, kicking his feet under the blankets. "So… are you both my momma?"

"Why don't you still call me Aunt Idgie?" I suggested. "Just so we don't get confused when you yell 'momma' in the house? But I want you to be able to come and talk to me just like if I was your momma, okay?"

Stump rolled his eyes. "I already do, silly. I'll raise you two!" he added suddenly, dropping two more gumballs into the pile between us.

* * *

A few days later, when Stump finally returned home, we hosted a funeral for his arm. We buried it just outside the cemetery, with a tombstone and everything. Almost every kid in Whistle Stop was there, sad and sober-faced. Sipsey wore black lace and stood tearfully next to Ruth, while I stood a few feet away fighting laughter desperately. Afterwards, the kids returned to the café for cake and ice cream, and I wrapped an arm around Ruth while we headed back.

"My father always said there was a separate god for children," she said as we watched Stump run, already getting used to his new, lopsided body. I smiled and gave her shoulders a squeeze before she added, "And would you please stop calling him Stump?"

"Aw, come on," I laughed. "You know if we don't, everyone else will! Don't you think it's best if we start it?"

"I don't know anymore," sighed Ruth. "All I know is I'm grateful he's here."

By then we had reached the porch and the noise of yelling kids inside the café. Before we went in, I pulled her close and whispered, "Amen" before kissing her, open-mouthed and softly.


	12. Peace

**A/N: Short n' sweet. Review, please!**

"Good morning Ruth…" a voice sing-songed in my ear. I squeezed my eyes tighter together and buried my face in the pillow. "Wake up, sleepyhead!"

"Idgie, what the hell is going on?" I only ever used language like that in the wee hours of the morning. Rolling over and opening my eyes, I stared at her expectantly.

"Come on," she whispered, grinning. Of course she was wide-awake and fully dressed. On a regular morning, I was hard-pressed to get her out of bed in time to open the café, but when Idgie had mischief on her mind, there was no stopping her. "Get dressed, and meet me in the café."

I considered rolling over and going back to sleep. That would show her what I thought of her bossing me around before the sun was even up, ordering me to get up so she could take me God-knows where. But of course, it was Idgie, and I couldn't resist.

"Idgie, what about the café?" I asked a few minutes later, even as I obediently followed her out the back door.

"Sipsey's handling it," she assured me. Taking my hand, she led me around to the street, where Julian's old pickup truck was waiting. She just grinned at my questioning look, and opened the door for me with a bow.

An idea soon started formulating in my mind, and the further we drove the more it solidified. Sure enough, before long we were coming up to the same field where her honey tree was.

"You coulda just told me we were coming here," I giggled.

But Idgie shook her head. "This is just the first stop. Wait here."

So I waited, and watched from the car window as she walked up to the tree, shoulders square and steps certain. Just as she had done hundreds of times, she slipped a glass jar carefully into the hollow, and pulled it out, hand covered in bees and jar filled with golden honey.

It didn't scare me this time as it had years and years ago – I was fascinated and thrilled. Watching her sent flutters through my stomach and made goosebumps rise on my flesh – and not the bad kind. By the time she got back to the truck, the bees had all gone and she was screwing a lid tightly onto the jar.

"Here you go," she offered the honey to me after climbing back in. In a moment we were off again, this time going to… I didn't know where.

We drove far, and the sky was just beginning to be tinged grey on the horizon when Idgie finally stopped the car on the side of the road. She picked up the basket resting between the seats and then hurried around to open the door for me. I grinned at her and took her hand, following as she led me across a field and into the woods.

We reached the edge of the forest and didn't stop. By the time we were in deep enough that the road was no longer visible, I was a little nervous. "Honestly, Idgie, where are we – _oh_!"

She silenced me by backing me up into a tree and covering my mouth with hers. We hadn't kissed like that in _years_. It was alright for young people, but I had passed my thirtieth birthday. And of course we kissed, and we still shared a bed and made love, but it was broad daylight! Against a tree, like lusty teenagers hiding from their parents and unable to resist. And I certainly was unable to resist. The kiss was hard and searching, like Idgie was probing my soul as her tongue probed my mouth. I let my body melt into hers eagerly.

As suddenly as it had begun, it ended. Idgie pulled away, grabbed my hand again, and tugged me along. "Almost there," she promised, grinning at the shocked look on my face.

True to her word, we arrived at whatever the destination was a few minutes later. At first I saw only a tree – a very big tree, admittedly. I suspected that the two of us would be able to wrap our arms around it if we joined hands, but just barely. And then I saw it – planks of wood, each about a foot long, nailed to the trunk, forming steps. I followed them upwards to see… well, it wasn't a tree house exactly. It was more of a lean-to. Large, squarish planks were nailed haphazardly, forming a rough shelter. They looked as though they had been added one at a time with lots of time in between, like there had been no planning and every once in a while the builder had decided to add another spontaneously.

"It's great," I smiled at Idgie. "How'd you find it?"

"Buddy built it," she said proudly. "My Buddy, I mean, not ours."

I frowned then. "It's old… is it safe?"

"'Course it is!" Idgie pretended to be offended. "I drove out here last week to see if it was still here, and it was. Come on, let's go up!"

Up we went, me first with Idgie and the basket right behind me, ready to grab hold if I slipped. But we made it to the shelter with no mishaps, and settled ourselves in for breakfast. By then the sky to my right was pink and orange, trailing up above our heads and mingling with the deep blue to my left.

We shared the honey and biscuits, devouring them quickly after our long trek to the tree house. Then Idgie peeled an orange from the basket and we ate that too. Afterwards, I seated myself between her legs and leaned back against her. Her arms wrapped around me instantly and I gently unpeeled one and began to lick the sticky orange juice off of her fingers.

Idgie grinned, laughing at me but trying to hide her… interest at the same time. When I had finished, she pushed me forward a little bit and worked my hair into a thick braid with her now clean hands. She tossed the braid over my right shoulder and inclined her head, lazily kissing the left side of my neck. I smiled and shifted a little, setting in as the day wore on, knowing that it would probably be a very long day, full of sweet orange juice and lazy kisses.

I was right.


	13. Breathe

**A/N: Wow! Update! Some smutty fluff to round it off before the angst and then the end. I'll attach the first part of End to this tonight or sometime this week, and as I type I've been struck by what I want to do with the last chapter. So, hopefully it won't be ten months this time. We're nearly to the end, folks. Thanks for sticking with it!**

"Buddy!" Ruth called, balancing a laundry basket on her hip, struggling for breath. _We must really be getting old_, I thought, watching as she pressed a hand into the wall to steady herself. "Come get these clean sheets and put them on your bed."

I watched from hiding as she continued down the hallway, until she was right in front of the doorway to our bedroom. I lashed out a hand, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her against me. The basket of clean laundry fell to the ground and she jumped twice, first at my sudden appearance and second at the loud noise. Before she knew what was happening I had her pinned to the bedroom door, our mouths connected and our hips pressed flush together.

"Idgie!" she gasped as she pulled away, laying a hand over her heart. "Are you trying to kill me?"

I slipped my hand underneath hers and felt her racing heartbeat, felt how it accelerated under my touch when I began kissing her jawline. "Sorry," I murmured, gently twisting the doorknob with my free hand.

She moaned at first, but it quickly turned into a gasp and then, "Could you at least let me breathe a minute? Lord, Idgie Threadgoode, you'd think you were twenty years old the way you carry on sometimes."

"Here, sit down," I laughed, guiding her to the edge of the bed. Then I shrugged and said, "Take as much time as you need" while undoing the top button of my shirt.

"Now, that's not fair," she protested as I moved to the second. By the time I reached the fourth button, staring straight at her the whole time, her eyes were wide as if she was seeing me for the first time. "You," she breathed out a moment later, "are incorrigible."

"Mmhmm," I agreed, undoing the last button and starting on my pants. After they were gone I walked up to Ruth, turning my back to her so she could unhook my bra. She did, after a moment of hesitation. I smiled, knowing I had won.

Now only in my panties, I quickly skimmed my fingers over the buttons of her dress, only undoing enough so that she could slip it over her head. When I reached for her bra, kissing where her neck met her shoulder, she gasped, "Go lock the door. I called Buddy just now."

I desperately wanted to keep touching her, but I knew she was right. Reluctantly I removed my hands from her soft skin and moved to lock the door. When I turned around, I gasped. Ruth was lying back on the bed, completely naked.

"Shi… shoot," I corrected myself, wondering how I was still in enough of my right mind to watch my language. Dismissing the thought, I shimmied out of my underwear and joined her on the bed.

"So, just so we're clear," she panted as I gently pulled pins out of her hair, allowing it to fall over her shoulders, "You risked giving me a heart attack for the sole purpose of having your way with me?"

"Mmhmm," I breathed. Her hand came to the back of my neck and pulled my lips to hers.

She pulled away just long enough to laugh, "You're crazy," and then kissed me again.

Before long, I couldn't stand the slow burn between my thighs. Ruth was right, I did feel like a teenager a lot of the time, but I blamed her. Only she could make me feel this full of pure desire, so it was her fault, really, not mine. Either way, I intended for us both to be rewarded. I shifted so that her thigh was between mine and pressed down, groaning in satisfaction at the friction.

She gasped, and I thought I heard my name. I knew her well enough to know that she was shocked at how quickly the situation – and my arousal, as evidenced by the warm wetness on her thigh – had progressed. With a twist of her hips, her womanhood was pressed up against my own, and I bit her lip in surprise.

"Ruth," I panted helplessly, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck and to her shoulder. She squirmed beneath me, and we both moaned.

"Mama?" our son's voice called out at the door. I clamped a hand over my mouth, stilling my motions and mentally cursing Buddy's timing.

After a brief argument with our eyes, Ruth called back, "Yes?"

"Are these sheets clean?" I bit my lip to keep from yelling at the mundane nature of his question. I loved our son, but unless he was hurt, this was Ruth Time.

"Yes, honey," she answered calmly. "Pull yours out and put them on your bed."

There was a sigh of annoyance at the chore, a shuffling of feet as he collected his sheets, and loud footsteps signaling his disappearance.

"God dammit," I half-sighed, half-laughed.

"Shhh," she soothed, rolling on top of me. Her hand found my breast and she palmed it gently, only enough to make me want more. I closed my eyes at the feeling, sighing with pleasure when her lips reconnected with mine. We kissed softly but with definite purpose, exploring each other's mouths as we would soon explore each other's bodies.

"How do you still make me feel like this?" she panted, wrenching her lips away and planting her hands on my waist. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I smiled up at her, placing a hand on her cheek and trying to kiss her again, but she dodged my lips. Instead she began kissing down, running her tongue over the skin beneath her mouth.

After the previous buildup and interruption, I was melting under her touch. When her lips closed over my nipple, my hips bucked helplessly. Sensing my discomfort, she replaced her mouth with her hands, and kissed another quick, fiery line down to spread my thighs.

The first time Ruth had done this for me, years ago, she had tried not to let me see how terrified she was. I told her again and again that she didn't have to, but she seemed determined, if not lost. Her tongue then had been tentative and unsure, waiting for direction and approval with every move she made.

She was certainly not unsure now.

It was only minutes, a few short minutes where all awareness in my body was concentrated on _Ruth_, before I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down to keep the scream inside. It was minutes, again, before any awareness returned, and Ruth was holding me and stroking my hair, breathing even more heavily than I was.

"You okay?" I asked, reaching for her hand immediately.

She nodded, smiling brilliantly. "We're getting old, Idgie," she laughed, and we settled down so that she could catch her breath before I had my turn to love her.

The next day was the first that she refused to eat.


	14. End

**A/N: The death scene is similar to the film, but I changed it a bit. Yes, Ruth still dies. :( And if you don't get it, because I didn't really explain, the first part (in italics) is a flashback to the day Idgie got the honey out of the beehive, and the second part is as Ruth is dying.**

**I don't own FGT.**

"_You want one?"_

_In Idgie's outstretched, offering hand was a fresh peach,light-colored and fuzzy and almost perfectly round. I smiled at her. All day we had been eating- a few pieces of toast for breakfast, gobbled hurriedly as we got into Julian's car; then fresh honey snatched from a hive with biscuits baked that morning; and peanuts straight out of the shells (it did not escape my notice that all of the biggest peanuts Idgie found, she offered to me). My bee charmer was still eating, though I had been stuffed long ago. She, tall and slim, seemed to be a bottomless pit. I knew, when I was her age, I could never have eaten the same way. Where Idgie grew upwards every time I saw her, I would have grown outwards just as quickly._

_I shook my head at the peach, smiling. "No, thank you," I murmured softly._

"_What, don't you like peaches? Don't you have to?" her voice was lazy and content, curiosity giving way to the heat and the gentle breeze that was likely to put us to sleep._

"_Have to?"_

"_Well, sure. You're from Georgia."_

"_And?"_

"_Don't peaches come from Georgia?"_

_I laughed, lying back onto our picnic blanket. "Yes," I sighed sleepily. "Peaches come from Georgia."I was so full and the warmth of the day was so comfortable in the shade, especially with Idgie there to protect me from anything that might come our way._

"_Well, you want one then?" she leaned closer, bringing her hand closer to my face, revealing an indent where she taken a bite out of the fruit._

_I could smell the juice and imagine how good it would taste; I could see how Idgie, for some reason, really wanted me to eat the peach. After all that she had done to make me happy that day, I couldn't refuse her. Smiling, I covered her hand with mine and brought it to my mouth so I could take a bite._

_It was good, and as stuffed as I was, still I was glad that I ate some. Even when I dropped my hand Idgie kept hers by my mouth, and bite by bite, like you would eat an apple, we shared the peach until Idgie was left with just the pit in her hand. She tossed it away after looking at it for a moment and leaned up against the tree by our blanket._

_Seized by a sudden desire, I sat up next to her. "Idgie..." I murmured softly, nervously. She turned to look at me, and I saw understanding in her face. Cupping my cheek with a sweet-sticky hand, she waited until I was ready. I leaned in first, and her lips met mine, and I shared my first kiss (at age twenty-one, a true preacher's daughter) with Idgie Threadgoode. She tasted like peaches._

_Sure, I prayed about it that night, asking for forgiveness for my sin and for God to help me be stronger against the temptation in the future. But never once in my prayers did I say that I was sorry for kissing her._

"Ruth, honey, you've got to eat something," Idgie pleaded, eyes full of worry and fear. I could only shake my head, to exhausted and in too much pain even to form a proper sentence.

"Not hungry," I managed to choke out.

"Please, Ruth." She was begging now, and I couldn't meet her eyes because I knew from her voice that they would be filled with tears and I couldn't bear knowing that I made her sad. I knew I didn't have much time left with her, and the thought that her last memories of me would be like this brought tears to my own eyes.

"Idgie..." I breathed, fear of running out of time giving me a little more energy. "I'm sorry."

Her hand was on my face instantly, pushing sweat-soaked hair off of my forehead, soothing over tired eyelids, resting on my cheek. "What in the world could you possibly have to be sorry for?" There were not tears in her eyes now, but her voice was strained.

"For leaving... like this. I don't want to; I don't care if He wants me home, because I don't-" I broke off with a sob. "I don't want to leave you."

Always stubborn, Idgie just shook her head. "You ain't goin' anywhere, so would you stop it?"

"Idgie," I sighed again, firmly, needing her to let me. I needed her to accept it, because I would hate myself if I had to leave before she was ready. Or, at least, as ready as possible.

She ignored me, though my tears kept on falling. "Isn't there anything you would eat?"

My mind searched the cafe's menu, but I couldn't bear the thought of eating a whole meal right now. Fried green tomatoes would be alright, but I wasn't in the mood for them. If I was going to eat anything, it had to be simple and light so I wouldn't be overwhelmed, considering how awful I already felt. As I tried to think of everything, finally my mind landed on the perfect food for right now.

"Peaches," I sighed. "Do we have any peaches?"

Idgie shook her head. "But I'll go get some." Instantly she stood and made to leave the room, pausing at the doorway. "Don't you go anywhere," she said, and I could tell she was attempting to keep her tone light, but she didn't turn around and face me.

I slept while she was gone and awoke to her voice, soft and soothing, whispering to me. Pulling myself into consciousness, I opened my eyes and stared at her. She planted a chaste kiss to my chapped lips before handing me a peach. I smiled and gave it back to her, and after a moment she understood. She held it to my lips so I could take a bite, then I set my hand on top of hers to guide the peach towards her own mouth. We shared the peach, and halfway through I stopped her.

"Idgie," I tried again. "Please listen to me."

She looked down at her lap and fiddled with the buttons on her shirt.

"I love you more than anything..." I realized what was happening. I had heard of people having a 'burst of consciousness' before death. They could make a miraculous, temporary recovery and have coherent conversations with everyone around them and die shortly after. I was terrified, but I kept going. "I need to know that you're okay with me leaving."

"How could I ever-"

"About Buddy. Don't let him go to the funeral."

"Ruth, you aren't having any-"

"_Idgie Threadgoode_." She looked up. "Please, honey... I'll hate myself if you hate me for dying on you; I need..."

Idgie shook her head, tears falling. "I could never hate you," she said incredulously. "I don't want you to leave, but..." She had never been good at this sort of thing. All she was able to do was lay her head down on the bed next to me and sob, but I knew her well enough to know that she was giving in and letting me go.

Finally she raised her head. "Is there anything... I can do for you?" When other people asked it was uncomfortable, like an obligation. With Idgie it felt sincere and honest.

"Could you tell me a story? The one about the ducks?"

It took a few minutes for her to get it out, but she managed to tell me the story, punctuated with sobs. She wandered through the room and I felt drowsy watching her, until finally she finished the story and came to rest next to me again.

"There's so many... things I wanna say to you..." I knew it was happening now as she sobbed. I knew I was dying.

"I love you," I sighed weakly, tugging gently on her hair to bring her close to me. I leaned in first, but eventually she followed and her lips met mine, and I shared my last kiss with Idgie Threadgoode. She tasted like peaches.


	15. Beginning

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with it, guys. 3**

**I still don't own.**

"Buddy," I whispered gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's today."

"I hate today," he said, muffled into the pillow. "Go away."

"Now, c'mon, whatcha being like that for?" I ruffled his hair before climbing in bed next to him and adding more softly, "What would your Momma say?"

He whimpered and rolled further away.

Reaching for his hand, I held it firmly no matter how hard he tried to pull away. "Buddy… you remember what I said about courage." He nodded slowly. "I know it's hard – believe me, I hate today just as much as you do. As far as I'm concerned, today can go to hell." A sound that was almost a giggle broke forth from the small body next to me. "But it's time for you and me to have courage like your Momma did. Alright? She loved you so much, and she'd be so proud if she could see how brave you've been these past few days."

There was a moment of silence before he asked, "Can I please go to the funeral? That's brave, isn't it?"

I sighed. "Come on, Buddy, you know she didn't want you to."

"But I wanna…" his voice broke. He didn't finish the sentence, but I knew the ending. _Say goodbye._

"I'm not gonna go either," I suddenly decided. "I'll stay with you."

So, while the rest of Whistle Stop was at the cemetery, in their black lace and suits and shined shoes, Buddy and I were in the Café kitchen, wearing overalls and cooking. That afternoon the Whistle Stop Café opened again for the first time since Ruth had gotten sick, and it had never been so crowded. The food wasn't the best, but Sispey managed to rescue most of it when she got there, and if it was a little burned, no one said anything.

All of the respectable crowd from Whistle Stop was there, as well as most of the regulars from the Wagon Wheel Club, and the back yard was full with colored people, probably each one that Ruth had ever served. Everywhere I turned I heard her name, but most people were smiling, and I didn't see a single tear. _This is what she would have wanted_.

Buddy, on the other hand, sat at the counter and picked at his apple pie. I watched from the kitchen as more and more people tried to talk to him and he refused to engage. Finally, I set down my spatula.

"Sipsey, are you alright back here if I leave?"

"Sho' thing, Miz Idgie. I'll probably do better without'cha," she laughed. I grabbed a bottle of beer and walked out.

"Come on, Buddy, let's go. Get your baseball glove."

Ten minutes later we were seated against a tree just on the edge of the cemetery, passing the bottle back and forth (I made sure, for Ruth's sake, that he didn't drink much).

"I thought you said I couldn't come," he said finally.

"You couldn't go to the funeral," I corrected. "You're just fine to come here whenever you want."

"And do what?"

I pulled him up, leaving the bottle and collecting both gloves and the baseball. We went a little closer – not close enough that we were stepping on any graves, but where we could see the newest headstone. And then, in silence, we played catch.

After a while he started crying, but he didn't miss a ball. By the time he stopped, I had started, and then after I got ahold of myself, we weren't quiet anymore. We talked, like we hadn't in months, since Ruth had been sick. Mostly we talked about her, but he told me stories that he had eavesdropped on in the café that morning, and I offered a few tales that I had saved for when he was older. He was close enough to the right age now.

We played for hours, conversation lagging and starting up and lagging again, over and over. We played until the sun started to set, until the pain from the gaping hole in my chest settled into my shoulder instead. Buddy missed his first catch, hours in, when it was nearly dark. He was blinking more often, and missed another a few minutes later. Finally he reached for a high toss, stumbled, and landed on his backside. When I got to him, he rolled on his side and nuzzled his face into the grass.

"Okay, Mister," I sighed. "Let's go home."

And damn if I didn't carry him, like a little baby, all the way home, and get him into his pajamas and tuck him in. And you know something else? He didn't protest at being treated like a baby at all.

After I put him to bed, I tried to go to bed myself, but it was too big and too empty. Over the past few days, getting ready for the funeral, I hadn't really slept except for short naps on the couch at odd hours. In fact, I had hardly been in the bedroom at all. Lying there, alone for the first time since Ruth's death, sleep was suddenly the last thing on my mind.

God, I missed her. I missed her with every fiber of my being, so badly that I literally gasped for air. The past few days had been so full of planning that I had been able to distract myself, but now there was nothing left but a lifetime looming in front of me with no Ruth.

I couldn't just lie there. The urge to run was overpowering. I had run from everything, my whole life. When Buddy died. When Ruth left the first time. When Ruth left again. I wanted to get up and take to the woods, stopping only to grab a bottle of whiskey, or several, from the kitchen on my way.

But I had Buddy.

I couldn't leave him. On the list of things Ruth Would Have Wanted Me to Do, that was absolutely dead last. I had to do _something_; I couldn't just lie there. My pulse was racing and sobs loud enough to wake the whole house were threatening to break forth. So I combined the only thing I knew how to do with the responsibility I knew Ruth would want me to take.

I left – but I vowed to return before the sun was up.

I went to the bee hive, partially just to get some honey and partially for that rush of adrenaline. It was late, probably after midnight, and as I walked away from the tree, I felt calmed for the first time in days.

Approaching the cemetery, however, I was filled with pure dread. I wasn't ready to face this – I even turned around. But I swear to God, as I started to leave, I heard a twig snap behind me. No one was there, but my eyes landed on Ruth's grave and I felt a sudden courage.

I spent all night there. I left the honey next to the tombstone and sat in front of it. Quietly at first, but then I started talking. I spoke softly and calmly, detailing everything that had happened the past few days.

"But I guess you know all this," I finished with a deep breath. I didn't remember lying down, but I was stretched out on the grass beside the fresh grave, clutching the long green strands between my fingers. "I know you're still watching, at least for Buddy."

And then I cried. "God, Ruth, I don't know what I'm going to do… I've never loved anyone else in my whole life. Ruth, why did you leave? I can't raise Buddy by myself; I don't know how to do that… I can't do this without you, Ruth…"

The sun was light on the edge of the sky before I returned, and when Buddy got up he found me in the café kitchen, making a fat stack of pancakes. Between the two of us and Sipsey, we ate every one.


End file.
